


Keurigs and Other Minor Disasters (Or Reasons Why Tony Can't Work When He's Sick)

by Ocean_Born_Mary



Series: Minor Disasters (Or Reasons Why Tony Can't Work When He's Sick) [1]
Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Coulson isn't dead, Gen, Sickfic, Tony Has Issues, keurig, pre-slash Tony/Steve (if you squint)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ocean_Born_Mary/pseuds/Ocean_Born_Mary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keurigs, demi-gods, Not-Colds...how could it possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keurigs and Other Minor Disasters (Or Reasons Why Tony Can't Work When He's Sick)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I wish I owned them. All of them. Instead I guess I'll just torture them.
> 
> This is my first Avengers fic. I'm looking at making this into its own sort of series (Reasons Why Tony Can't Work When He's Sick), so let me know what you think about that idea. :)
> 
> ENJOY!

This was the damn Keurig’s fault. And Thor, definitely Thor. Okay, and maybe it was a little bit his fault, but it was mostly the Keurig’s. Even Fury would not be able to get him to admit otherwise. Natasha…maybe…but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

Because he really didn’t want to get debriefed on this.  
  
Though technically he was debriefed. Note to self: wear pants the next time he decided to see the top of the Statue of Liberty.

Yeah. Coulson was going to love the paperwork on this one.

It wasn’t like he was planning to end up stark naked (and yes, he realized the irony in that statement) on top of lady liberty. In fact, he had been planning on spending the day holed up in his workshop and hiding from everyone. Including, but not limited to, the Board of Director’s meeting that Pepper had so kindly scheduled him.  
  
Because if the itchy, watery eyes, random sneezing fits, swollen throat, and pounding headache weren’t enough to get him out of the meeting, then nothing was. Of course, he really didn’t want anyone to know about the itchy, watery eyes, random sneezing fits, swollen throat, and pounding headache. And getting caught with the itchy, watery eyes, random sneezing fits, swollen throat, and pounding headache would result in the very least in an Eye-Brow-Raise-of-Doom if not the Sigh-of-Great-Disappointment (and who knew someone in star spangled spandex could make Tony want to run and hide). One rabid army of mechanical garden gnomes when he had the flu (and here was something he should have remembered--fevers and engineering DO NOT mix) and suddenly Steve seemed to think he needed to be tied down every time his nose ran.

Maybe he did.  
  
Hence the hiding in his lab.

That worked for all of half-an-hour, when Pepper appeared, and Jarvis (traitor), let her in despite his loud protests otherwise, and shoved a fresh pressed suit at him.  
  
He did very good at pretending to not have itchy, watery eyes, random sneezing fits, swollen throat, and a pounding headache. Though admittedly, he nearly choked twice trying not to sneeze.

Looking back, Tony should have just sneezed. Then maybe he would have been able to convince Pepper that he was allergic to board meetings.

Instead, by the end of the meeting, he could now add achy joints and extreme boredom to his list of symptoms. Okay, the last one wasn’t a symptom of his Not-Cold, but it was definitely a symptom of board meetings. Or a side effect. He wasn’t sure yet.

By the time Happy dropped him back off at the Tower, Tony was looking forward to nothing more than slinking back off to his lab to tinker with his suit. (And by tinker, he meant syncing his iTunes play list to respond directly to the speed in which he was traveling in the suit. Eventually he planned to have a play list for each different disaster they encountered and one just to annoy Fury, but the disasters--and board of directors--seemed to be keeping him from this very important upgrade).

He was not expecting to find Clint consoling Thor in the middle of his lab. Thor, who was holding the Keurig from the kitchen and rocking it back and forth like a small, demented looking child. And hey, what did he know? Maybe kids looked like Keruigs on Asgard. Though he doubted it.  
  
Clint was awkwardly patting Thor’s back as the large man sobbed.

And really…that was just…they all needed to get out.

“Jarvis?”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but Mr. Odinson was very upset, and I’m sure you can help him with his problem.”  
  
Tony took a deep breath and tried not to cough (stupid swollen throat), sniffed hard so whatever snot was attempting to make an appearance would rapidly disappear, and stepped into the lab.

The relief on Clint’s face was nearly tangible. Chicken.

“Oh! My dear colleague,” Thor lamented, “you must help me! Our kindhearted coffee friend has succumbed to some illness and no longer gives out precious sustenance!”

Yeah, he was just going to turn around, and…  
  
“Steve said you could save him!”

Tony closed his stupid, watery eyes. Of course he did. Bastard.

Clint was trying to slip towards the nearest vent now that Thor’s attention was focused elsewhere. Never mind, he was the bastard.

“You must give him new life!”

Before Tony could stop him, Clint was up and gone, and how the heck did he do that?  
  
“Sure, buddy,” Tony cleared his throat. Stupid Not-Cold and stupid phlegm. Stupid sobbing demi-god.

Cause who couldn’t help a sobbing god?

If he’d been feeling better, Tony probably could have talked his way out of it, bought a new Keurig (a better Keurig than that piece of junk that Coulson had dropped in the kitchen when he decided to move in-- _and who invited him anyway_ ), and have been done with it.

Thor leapt across the room, too fast for Tony’s pounding head to make sense of, and pressed the coffee maker into his hands. Maybe if he just explained to Thor that not all machines had life (just the ones he made), that there was no AI in the Keurig, that it couldn’t feel, didn’t suffer, wasn’t sick…

Looking up at big, wet, blue eyes, Tony sighed. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Thank you, Man of Iron!” Thor clapped one hand on Tony’s shoulder and his aching joints nearly betrayed him. At the last second his knees locked, and wasn’t that great, because he’d never hear the end of it from Barton if he passed out in his lab and got carried up the stairs bridal style by a blonde in a cape. Nope, not going to happen.

Plus Steve would figure out he was sick. Whole Eyebrow-Sigh-Thing. Nope.

Thor skipped (yes, skipped) out the sliding glass door and left Tony standing, shivering (that was new), and cradling a coffee maker to his chest. Tossing his suit jacket over the nearest standing object (Dummy) and loosening his tie, Tony stomped (and no he was not pouting, thank you very much) over to his work bench.

“Sir, your temperature is rising rapidly.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Jarvis.”

“Nick Fury has a poster of Beyonce in his quarters.”

“I…how did you…Nevermind, you evil, evil creation. Remind me to never piss you off.”

“Sir, may I also remind you that you told me that you were to never engineer while running a fever again?”

“Jarvis, are there any garden gnomes in the lab?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then we’re good. Keep Spangly Pants and the rest of them out of here for awhile, would you?”

“Sir, perhaps you should first take something for…”

“Taking stuff is for wimps. For wimps with colds. I am neither a wimp, nor do I have a cold.”

“Sir…”

“Jarvis.”

“Very well, Sir.”

“Is that sarcasm I’m sensing, seriously?”

“No, Sir.” The offended tone was not convincing.

“After I’m done with this coffee thing, you are so getting a tune up.”

After that things got a little fuzzy.

  
All Tony knew is that he woke up leaning against the work bench, Dummy prodding him gently and making a desperate whistling sound.

  
“Holy…what happened in here?”

  
“Sir…I believe that you gave the Keurig an arc reactor.”

  
“I…did what?”

  
“And repulsors.”

  
That would explain some of the mess…

  
“And…”

  
“Never mind, just show me, J.”

  
God almighty, his head hurt (so did everything else, and if his nose didn’t stop running…).

  
A hologram flickered to life in front of him as Tony used the bench to lever himself to his feet. Yup, that was definitely him… “Can I get some sound, Jarvis.”

  
“If you insist, sir.”

  
 _“Damn Keurig. Doesn’t even make decent coffee. A really intelligent coffee maker would be able to retrieve coffee from wherever I wanted.”_

  
That would explain the repulsors, then…

  
 _“Thor wants a coffee machine with feelings, I’ll give him a coffee machine with feelings…”_

  
“Jarvis…exactly how high was my temperature?”

  
“103.4, Sir. If it went any higher I was going to instate emergency protocol.”

  
“New protocol, J. When I’m sick, don’t let me in.”

  
“Yes, sir.”

  
“Shit, did I give that thing teeth?”

  
“Apparently, Sir, you feel that coffee pods are…offensive. You said that it was no good if it couldn’t grind the coffee itself.”

  
Suddenly, the holographic Tony stumbled back, lifting the Keurig high in the air. It took off, banging hard into one wall, then another, running straight into Dummy before smacking off his head.  That really hadn't helped his headache.

  
 _“It is hot in here,”_ holographic Tony complained. _“Jarvis, open the window.”_

  
 _“Sir…”_

  
_“Now, Jarvis.”_

  
Tony watched as the Keurig bounced across the lab, knocking over several objects and attempting to eat several more with its sharp looking teeth. “It’s like a gremlin. It was cute and fuzzy when Thor had it, and then I dunked it in a bath.”

  
It was with restrained horror that Tony watched the Keurig hover right out the window.

  
“Oh, crap.”

  
 _“Jarvis, turn the air down.”_ Holographic Tony started pulling off his suit pants, shirt, and oh…looking down, Tony realized why he was freezing.

  
“Uh…Jarvis, where are my clothes?”  And why the hell hadn't the AI stopped that strip tease dance...

  
Holographic Keurig flew back through the window, snatched up his clothes, and munched happily, before disappearing again.

  
“You have got to be kidding me. I’ve got to clean this up before Fury gets wind of it…or worse…Steve.”

  
“Sir, your temperature is still at 102...”

  
“Jarvis, I need my suit. I can’t go out in public like this.”

  
“Yes, Sir,” Jarvis sighed.

  
“Oh, and next time a sobbing demi-god asks me to do something…don’t let me.”

  
He couldn’t sneak out of the lab to get a new set of clothes--it was almost a guarantee that one of the Avengers would catch him. And while he was really quite lovely to look at, especially without his clothes, he doubted even his stunning good looks would distract them from the fact that he had a Not-Cold. And having a Not-Cold with a Not-Fever while strolling through the tower in his birthday suit was likely to draw unwanted attention. Instead, Tony slipped into the suit (from now on he was at least keeping an extra pair of pants down here--metal suit, bare skin, bad combination) and blasted out the open window.

  
 _“Tony, where are you going?”_ So busted. Did the man walk around with his comm in all day, waiting for trouble?

  
“Hey, Cap, just testing a few adjustments.” He was pretty sure his voice sounded like sandpaper, so it was a good thing the suit had a voice modulator.

  
 _“Tony, we have a briefing tonight.”_

  
“I’ll meet you guys there.” Yeah, right. He had a rabid, pants-eating coffee machine to find.

  
And there was the Sigh.

  
“Honest.”

  
Turned out that rabid, pants eating coffee machines aren’t that hard to find. Generally, you just had to follow the panicked screams. Hopefully this one wasn’t going to make it onto the 11 ‘o clock news.

  
Tony shot past a screaming woman, and oh, no, the obese man being attacked by the Keurig was not something he really needed to see. Part of Tony just wanted to blast it into next week, but then Thor would cry again, and he’d probably hit the guy who was currently running in circles and screaming, and then there was the Eyebrow, not to be confused with the Eyepatch, and Barton would laugh, and Natasha would just shake her head and quirk her lips while Bruce fiddled with his glasses, and Coulson would bitch about paperwork…and dear Lord, did the Keurig just urinate coffee on the man’s head?

  
“Sir, your temperature is rising again.”

  
Hmm…that might explain why he couldn’t focus. Or it could have been the fact that his head was still pounding. Did the two things have something to do with each other? Anyone else might think they had some sort of cold.

  
But he couldn’t be sick, because when he gets sick garden gnomes happen. And apparently possessed coffee makers.

  
The Keurig darted away, apparently finally having learned to control its thrusters, and Tony took off after it.

  
“Stupid thing can’t even make a decent cup of coffee,” he complained to Jarvis. “And it ate my pants. I need real coffee. Real coffee. From real beans.”

  
“I’ll make a note to stop ordering you the imaginary kind, Sir.”

  
He would have replied, but one of those random sneezing fits felt that this was the right time to appear. It took him by surprise, freezing him in mid-air over Manhattan as they rattled off in quick succession.

  
“New priority, Jarvis,” he croaked. “Can the iTunes sync.” He sniffed hard, sneezed again, and tried not to groan. “Install windshield wiper to inside of helmet.”

  
“I take it you can’t see, Sir?”

  
Tony popped his visor open, the cold breeze making his already watery, itchy eyes water and itch. Stupid winter. Stupid Thor. Stupid Keurig. Stupid Not-Cold.

  
“Yeah, no.”

  
“I will begin adjustments right away, Sir…your Keurig appears to be heading out towards the bay.”

  
“Great.”

  
The wind whipped at his face, but since he couldn’t see out of the visor (and how had he never sneezed inside the suit before), he had no choice but to endure it.

  
It was heading right out over the bay, jetting itself along over the inky black water. Tony could see the city lights reflected off the waves, and on any other day he might have taken a few seconds to admire the fact that he could see his tower even from here.

  
Right now he was just praying that none of his team was home and looking out a window.

  
Putting on an extra burst of speed, Tony pushed the suit forward, reaching out and tackling the crazy machine.

  
Sharp teeth bit through his armor, and he faltered, trying to shake it off. “I’m never using one of these things again, Jarvis, how do I strangle this thing?”

  
“It does not have a neck. However, if you do manage to put it in water, you may be able to short circuit it long enough to access the arc reactor.”

  
“Can’t I just blow it up?”

  
“For some reason, sir, you put in a fail safe. If someone tries to blow up the…Keurig…the entire kitchen will self-destruct.”

  
“Now, why the hell did I do that?”

  
“You said it was so you, and I quote, _‘wouldn’t kill the little mechanical beast’_.”

  
“Huh…” Apparently he harbored some really hard feelings towards bad coffee. He might want to see someone about that. “Ouch, stupid, little…”

  
Tony dove for the bay and dunked his arm (where the Keurig stubbornly clung) into the water.

  
To his everlasting dismay, the water began to bubble and glow.

  
“Jarvis…”

  
“I’m not sure what is happening, Sir.”

  
Two wet Keurigs came flying out of the water. “It’s just like Gremlins,” Tony whispered. It was punctuated by another sneeze.

  
“Initial readings show no arc reactor in this replica. It is also not tied into the kitchen.”

  
“Jarvis, can you hack the system and untie the original from the kitchen?”

  
“Already on it, Sir.”

  
 _“Tony.”_

  
“A little busy right now, Cap. Rescuing a little old lady’s cats out of a tree. She’s got like…three hundred of them, so I’m going to be awhile.”

  
“The kitchen is no longer at risk.”

  
“Thanks, J.”

  
 _“Kitchen…Tony?”_

  
“Hmm…no idea what he’s talking about…” He tried not to panic as the two Keurigs attached themselves to his legs. If he could just bring his hand around…BAM! One down.

_“Tony, you just blew something up.”_

  
And that was the Captain’s Whatever-You-Are-Doing-Will-Get-You-Lectured voice. Usually accompanied the Eyebrow. And occasionally the Sigh.

  
“Did I?”

  
 _“That’s it, we’re on our way back. Hawkeye, turn the jet around.”_

  
“You don’t need to do that, we’re all, OW! Sharp teeth!” This day could not get any worse. To top it off, he couldn’t stop the harsh cough that broke out.

  
 _“Tony, what happened?”_

  
“Nothing, nothing, we’re good,” he cleared his throat, watching in slow motion as the Keurig chomped right through the main line to his right repulsor boot. “Oh, shit.”

  
He managed to get one shot off before hitting the water, the Keurig exploding in a fiery ball. He’d have to get Thor a ‘Sorry I blew up your coffee maker’ present.  
Since the thing was dead before it hit the water (or as dead as a machine could get), there were no more gremlin Keurigs.

  
However, Tony didn‘t have time to recover with only one repulsor boot, and he followed it right into the wintry depths.

  
“Cold, cold, cold,” He hissed, as the icy liquid flooded his suit. The holes in the armor, coupled with the absent visor, meant he was quickly filling up.

  
Using his remaining boot repulsor, he managed to fly himself to the top of the Statue of Liberty, settling in behind her crown.

  
Water was sloshing around on the inside of the suit.

  
“Sir, with the water in the metal suit, it is quite likely you may freeze before the rest of the Avengers arrive.”

  
Tony sneezed in response.

  
 _“Are you sick?”_

  
“No,” Tony mumbled.

  
“Mr. Stark currently has a temperature of 102.6.”

  
“Traitor.”

  
 _“Please tell me there are not gnomes.”_

  
Tony could hear Clint’s laughter in the background. Next possessed coffee machine was going in Barton’s room.

  
“No gnomes.”

  
“Sir, it would be best if you take the suit off.”

  
 _“Where are you, Stark?”_

  
“Statue of Liberty.”

  
 _“Do what Jarvis says. We’re on our way.”_ And really, it was rather offensive that Steve would just assume that he'd need help getting down.  Never mind the fact that he did.

  
It was only after he managed to pry off the battered suit that Tony remembered that the Keurig had eaten his pants.  It really couldn't get much worse.

  
Tony had no idea what time it was. But there were hands shaking him awake. He opened his eyes, saw the Eyebrow, and promptly closed them again.

  
“Tony.”

  
“M’not awake.”

  
“You’re going to freeze to death out here.”

  
“Yeah, you’re Stark Naked!” Barton. Had he not already made that joke to himself earlier? Was that the best he could come up with? “Ow! What was that for, Nat?”

  
“For being immature.”

  
Bruce was picking up his armor and he was really quite comfortable here. If someone would just give him a blanket.

  
“Thor went on ahead to make you soup. He said it was to apologize. He did not realize that the coffee maker was in fact an evil foe in disguise.”

  
“I guess that means it made the news, then.”

  
Steve snorted. “Coulson said they don’t make forms for this.”

  
“First time for everything.” He accepted the proffered hand (and blanket, thank God for Bruce), and tucked himself safely away into the plane.

  
How he managed to fall asleep on the two minute ride, he wasn’t sure, but next thing he knew, Steve was pulling him to his feet and saying something about bedtime.

  
There were warm blankets and soft pillows and… “Take this.”

  
“M’not sick.”

  
“I didn’t say you were, take this.”

  
“Sick people take things.” He glared at the medicine cup.

  
“Sick people do take things. People who don’t admit they are sick build pants-eating coffee machines.”

  
“Fair point. In my defense, Thor had tears.” He swallowed the medicine quickly, pulled a face, and ducked under the covers. Maybe if he just closed his eyes the watery, itchy eyes, random sneezing, swollen throat, pounding head, chills and aches would all go away. “Big, giant wet tears that were going to flood my lab. I had no choice.”

  
“Next time, instead of making an army of gnomes, or flying coffee makers, could you please just tell me you’re sick? I won’t make you go to a briefing sick. You don’t need to engineer ridiculous things to get yourself out of them.”

  
Was that what he’d been doing? Huh.

  
“And here I was going to try for an army of flying monkeys next. Best of both worlds, baby.”

  
Steve shook his head. “Go to sleep, Stark. We’ve got a debriefing about proper use of coffee makers in the morning.”

  
Damn. Maybe if he tinkered with the vacuum cleaner…

**Author's Note:**

> As I said at the beginning, I'm looking at making this into its own little series (starting with the garden gnomes). Let me know if anyone wants me to continue. 
> 
> Thanks!


End file.
